


Home (is where the heart is)

by littleramblings



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Complete disregard to the book here, M/M, Set pre-film
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleramblings/pseuds/littleramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were but infants when Erebor was lost, forcing them from the Lonely Mountain and onto a road that seemed endless, nobody knowing when they would stop and finally find a place to call home. It was then that both he and Kili had learned that home didn't need to be a grand hall or room with a roaring fire and overflowing dinner table. No, home could be a person. And their home? Their home was each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home (is where the heart is)

 

Fili has always worried about his little brother. They were but infants when Erebor was lost, forcing them from the Lonely Mountain and onto a road that seemed endless, nobody knowing when they would stop and finally find a place to call home. It was then that both he and Kili had learned that home didn't need to be a grand hall or room with a roaring fire and overflowing dinner table. No, home could be a person. And their home? Their home was each other. Which was why now, with Thorin sitting before them expectantly and their mother clutching nervously at the table cloth, that he needn't wait even a second after hearing Kili agree to the quest before Fili, too, said yes.

 

 

“You show great courage, you will do your family honour.” they are told, but Fili is only half listening to their king, his attention focussed on the boy stood beside him. Boy, because Kili may have been through just as much as he, may have faced things no young dwarf should have to face, but he was still the little brother who had to be taught to shoot an arrow, had to be taught which berries were poisonous and which were fine. Had been taight by _Fili_ , and he was certainly not ready to address his brother as the man he was so soon to become. It was selfish, of course it was, but when Kili became a man, there would be no need for Fili in his life. He would find another home, a respectable woman to bear his children and he would forget about the nights spent with him, side by side under thin sheets, holding each other close for warmth and comfort. No, Fili was certainly not ready for that, yet.

 

 

“In the next few days, the Wizard will tell you where to meet. Be ready for then.” and with that, Thorin is gone. Their mother, bless her heart, polishes their armour and has their father sharpen arrows and daggers to the point that Fili feared they would even cut through their containers, but that's not his greatest worry. 

 

 

They're packing. Clothes (though not too many), food, anything which would be deemed necessary on a journey through Middle Earth, and Kili is quiet. Quieter than usual, and it's unnerving because he's always the louder of the two, always the one to bring smiles to the faces to others and bring Fili into every conversation, making sure he never ever felt excluded. So of course, the moment they're alone, he asks: “What's on your mind, Kili?” 

 

 

There's silence for a moment, hesitation, and that's what has Fili dropping whatever it is he had in his hands onto his bed, because there has never been hesitation between them before. “Kil?” he repeats, softer this time, as he walks closer- a hand raising to cup his brother's stubbled jaw. (He would grow his beard one day, but for now Fili appreciated how the shortness of hair only seemed to emphasise his strong cheekbones.) 

 

 

“Why did you say yes to Thorin?” Kili murmurs, eyes searching Fili's. “You hate adventure. You love working at the blacksmiths, you love the home we've built here. Why would you leave that? Was it for me?” there's a beat of silence and comprehension dawns on Kili's face, his brows furrowing together. “It _was_ for me, wasn't it? You don't think I'm ready to fight. You doubt me.”

 

 

“ _No,_ Kili.” Fili interrupts, shaking his head. “No, never. You are strong and skilled and more than ready for this, for anything thrown at you in life. You have been for a long time.”

 

 

“Then why?” 

 

 

And Fili sighs, now, wishing that he could just _tell him._ But words were never a dwarfs strong point. 

 

 

“Because it is I who is not ready to be without _you._ ” he whispers, head ducked and eyes closed. “I love my work and it is true that I do not seek adventure as zealously as you, but you are home to me, Kili. _You._ Not these four walls and not this town, but you _._ And I would rather face death a thousand times over than lose that just yet.”

 

 

Fili feels hands on his face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks as fingers curl beneath his ears, before he's being brought forwards, lips stroking feverishly against his and it's so familiar, so warm and he almost forgets that he has to breathe. Almost. And oh how he wishes he doesn't so he could just continue this forever, but time is a precarious thing and they have so little of it, so with regret, the kiss eases out, slows until with one final swipe of tongue over red and puffy lips, it's over. 

 

 

“You will never lose me, my brother.” Kili whispers, his voice so certain and strong, and Fili lets it wrap around him, calm and ground him. “I promise can promise that. You will always be home to me, and I to you.”

 

 

“Can you really promise that?” Fili says, uncertain. But of course, he needn't be. Kili simply nods, kisses him softly once more and they both know that means yes. 

 

 

And those three words that neither can say to the other? They don't have to. It's in the little things they do. It's in the way that Fili follows Kili to the Shire and would follow him through Mordor during the reign of Sauron if he had to. They know those words, even if they are foreign to the tongue.

 

 

(“I love you.”)


End file.
